Hedonistic
by Stephfunky
Summary: Elrond of Rivendale finds himself a hedonist's dream. Hp LoTR X-over Slash cross-gen one shot


Elrond frowned gently, sweeping back a long strand of brown hair

Elrond frowned gently, sweeping back a long strand of brown hair. He bent to pluck up a small bundle of Star Thistle but stopped mid bend. Brown eyes darted around suspiciously, trying subtly to locate the source of the soft sound that had caught his ear. Writing it off the noise as the makings of his lonely imagination, he continued with his chore of gathering various herbs. Just a few minutes later, however, yet another soft sound reached Elrond's delicate ears. Even with his superior hearing, the Elvin lord was surprised he had picked up the noise. Soft as a stray breeze and sorrowful, the soft sobs of a crying being blew threw the woods - causing Elrond to frown deeply. He rose to his full, rather impressive height with his harvest in a basket about his arm. With the slow practiced movements of a hunter, Elrond tracked the crying person as silently as he was capable. The hunt was surprisingly short, ending a mere thirty feet in a small clearing just west of his starting place.

The clearing in question was dark and nearly silent - only the delicate sobs and occasional hiccups of a clearly distressed person breaking the still silence. Blocking the sun out were imposing treetops, casting the entire clearing in a dreary shadow. Various animals were watching the base of a gnarled and tall tree, eyes wide and strange expressions of sadness gracing their faces. All the forces of nature seemed to be converging on this heartbroken person, all silently offering reassurance in their own strange manner. Dark brown eyes drifted to the tree, roaming over the barely visible form of a small person curled about he perverted branches of the old tree.

Elrond stepped forward slowly, allowing his foot to crack a small twig on the forest floor. The very moment to sound rang the crying figure froze. Slowly the figure raised its head causing the river of curly black hair falling about them to shift, shinning like black waters. Skin the color of fine china flashed sharply in the dim lighting as the figure - now recognizable as an effeminate, but male person - turned to look upon him. Twin orbs more vibrant even than the finest of emeralds studied him, tears still running crooked tracks down his pale face. The emerald-eyed man frowned gently, awkwardly stumbling to his feet. There the man stood, long fingered hands set against the tree bark and large eyes trained on him.

Elrond ventured forward a step and the man responded with a step back. Another step forward drove the man to step back again, pressing his back against the solid trunk of the tree, fingers gripping ledges in the bark.

"Who are you?" Elrond asked in a voice just above a whisper, absurdly fearing that anything louder would somehow shatter this moment.

There was a sudden flash of something in the man's eyes, but Elrond did not receive chance to think on it before the shorter man answered - also softly, "No one."

The elf's brows furrowed slightly as he fought back a frown. "Why were you crying so?"

"It is always painful to realize you are insignificant."

"There is no such thing," Elrond replied, cautiously stepping forward. The man stared at him with the wide, scared eyes of prey. "How did you get here?"

"I stepped through the veil in search of death, but it was not granted to me."

"You tried to end your own life," the lord translated, taking another pace towards the man. "But you arrived here instead." The man nodded slowly. "So the Valar have deposited you here."

Emerald eyes clouded slightly with confusion, allowing Elrond the distraction he needed to take the final strides leading to the man. He stopped a sparse few inches from the beautiful creature, looking down into his wide eyes.

"The gods of this realm," Elrond supplied absently, looking over the man before him.

If he were being truthful, Elrond would admit that he - like all Elves - was a hedonist. He lived solely by the principle that life should be a pleasure. Elves as a whole were a vain lot; often basing their decisions and impressions on the amount of pleasure (be it innocent or not so) could be siphoned. This man, as it were, was appealing to his search for pleasure. The man was visually pleasing, all sharp contrast and stunning features. His voice was pleasing to hear, melodic and soft like a hymn. Even his speech pattern was pleasing to Elrond's ear, filled with subtle riddles and philosophical thought. Everything about this man was a gift to Elrond's secret hedonistic tendencies. Everything about this emerald-eyed man drew him in, instincts crying for him to claim the beauty. Elrond was not one to ignore his instincts, so he did not question their wisdom as he leaned forward.

"What are you?" He finally asked, tilting his head slightly.

"I am simply dust. A spec of dust caught in a torrent."

Elrond leaned closer, causing the man to tilt away as much as he could. "Does this spec of dust have a name?"

"I have none significant enough for speech."

The elf smiled slightly, tilting his head just so to speak into the shorter man's ear - hidden partly by shinning black hair. "Then what am I to call the spec?" He asked, grinning very slightly when he heard the man's apple scented breath quicken.

"Call it nothing; it is too insignificant to be addressed."

"And if I deem it significant?" Elrond replied in a soft whisper, not granting the man time to respond. He cut off the man's likely depressing answer with his lips, persuading him into joining with sharp and dominating actions won from years of practice. The elder nipped lightly at soft strawberry colored lips, immediately slipping his slender tongue inside when the other gasped. Elrond found, much to his mixed amusement and pleasure, that the man tasted as much like apples as he smelled. The elf delivered one last brush of his tongue against his fellow's before withdrawing for air.

He breathed deeply, smirking gently at the harried looking man trapped between his tall form and that of the tree. "I deem it significant," Elrond murmured, staring straight into shocked green eyes. "Even if no other does so."

The man swallowed slowly, looking to be stuck between fear and shock. "My name is Harry, Harry Potter."

Elrond allowed his lips to curl upwards in a slight smile as he twirled slender fingers absently in hair as soft and silky as water. "How pleasing." He stated, again capturing Harry's mouth his own.

He noted in the back of his mind that he should offer much thanks to the Valar for presenting him with this hedonistic answer to his lonesome existence.


End file.
